The Korcari Wilds
by Mythial
Summary: Alistair and Elissa have been saved, but Elissa is poisoned. Rescued by chastened women, Elissa lays unconscious, with Alistair at her side. Disclaimer: I do not claim to own these characters. I am simply expanding on the world of Dragon Age : Origins in my own way. They have provided me with the rope, and I'm taking it out to play with.


Disclaimer: I do not claim to own these characters. I am simply expanding on the world of Dragon Age : Origins in my own way. They have provided me with the rope, and I'm taking it out to play with.

* * *

A single candle flickered as a fire burnt slowly, the only illumination in the hut.

A man sat hunched over next to a bed, his head in his hands.

A woman lay beside him, motionless; her breathing slow but regular. A mabari lay at her feet, its eyes fixed on her.

The wind rattled against the shutters, but he didn't hear it. His mind consumed with thoughts of those he knew, who had been lost. Everything, everyone, had been lost. But not her.

He looked to her again.

She had already been through so much, and survived. But now he understood the grief she had gone through, as it now consumed him.

Duncan...

The King...

He reached for her hand, the only source of comfort he had had since they were plucked from the top of the Tower of Ishal the previous night.

His fingers easily found her pulse, it's rhythm beating against his fingers.

"Please..." his pleaded in a coarse whisper, "please pull through. Don't leave me." He kissed her hand, his voice faltering. "Don't leave me."

Sleep finally came to him, as the storm raged on outside, though his dreams gave him no respite.

He woke with a start, thinking he had only nodded off, and saw his rescuer sat opposite.

"You managed to sleep then lad," she stated as she checked on Elissa.

"Yes," he replied, his body groaning. "And it's Alistair, not 'lad'."

The woman smiled. "Everyone is lad or girl to me, boy. It's not meant as an insult," she said, "it merely saves me having to remember names. I am an old woman after all."

Alistair nodded, any energy to argue leaving him.

"You can talk lad, I won't cut out your tongue," the old woman smirked. "But perhaps knowing your fellow Grey Warden will awaken soon will get your talking."

Alistair sat up. "Really? She really is going to be okay?"

The old woman looked at him annoyingly. "I told you yesterday that I could heal her, that it would take time. Did you not believe me?"

Alistair flushed. "I didn't mean it like that."

"But you don't trust...now what is it we're called..._apostates_," she said to him. "Need I remind you, that you would both be dead if not for me?"

"I know," answered Alistair sheepishly. "And am I grateful, truly I am. It's just...hard...to not..." he sighed. "It's hard to not think apostate, that's all. I'm sorry."

The old woman was looking at him closely now, and seemed to see something.

"I should have known," she concluded, "that Maric's son would be a Templar."

"I'm not..wait..." Alistair spluttered. "I'm not a Templar. I mean, I was, well, trained but, I didn't complete..." He stopped. "How do you know I'm Maric's son?!"

"I'm not blind lad," she stated, "I remember Maric, and you," she said, pointing, "are the spitting image of him. And he made you a Templar." She snorted in derision. "I thought he would have expected more from his son."

"He didn't _make_ me a Templar," said Alistair defensively, before realising he had said to much, given her reaction.

"_Didn't make me a Templar_," she repeated slowly, her interest peaked. "So who did," her eyes narrowing.

Alistair didn't want to answer, but the old woman cajoled him.

"You've already said it, so why not admit it all? We need to talk about something lad, unless you really want to sit there and mope all day."

He looked at Elissa. In the daylight, he could see that she didn't look as deathly pale as she had previously been, yet she still didn't move.

"Maric couldn't raise me as his son," he said quietly.

"Oh?"

He looked at the old woman. "My mother was a chambermaid at the castle."

"A chambermaid," she nodded thoughtfully. "So you were sent to be raised by the Chantry?"

"Not at first," he explained as he reached for Elissa's hand again. She felt warmer. "The King sent me to be raised by the Queen's brother."

"That would be the Arl of Redcliffe?"

"Yes," he replied, unconsciously stroking Elissa's knuckles.

"And it was the Arl who sent you to the Chantry?" the old woman persisted.

"Yes..well...no...it's complicated."

"What family isn't?" stated the old woman. "It's quite simple. The King had an affair with a chambermaid; your mother. You were born, and to placate his wife, the Queen, he sent you to live with her brother, the Arl. From there, for whatever reason, to the Chantry, where they trained you to become a Templar. But instead, you became a Grey Warden. Have I missed anything?"

"No."

The hut door swung open with force, startling Alistair and Dax, but not the old woman. In walked a younger woman; tall, lean, with a scowl on her face, and an attitude to match.

"Mother," her tone grated instantly on Alistair, "I do not see why I should do all the work. Surely, he is capable of helping, even if she is not?"

"Who said you had to do all the work, girl?"

"I do not see you helping, mother."

"I am tending to our guests injuries."

"But he is no longer injured!"

Alistair held his tongue, despite the instinct of his every fibre.

"And do you think he will leave his fellow Warden's side, in a place he does not know, with people he cannot be sure to trust? Be reasonable, girl."

"I** am** being reasonable, mother. I simply ask, that he at least helps. He is capable of cooking by the fire, is he not? That will not take him away from her, surely."

"Then maybe you should ask him politely, girl. You might find him amiable if you, at least, did that."

"Ask?!" the young woman hissed.

"Yes, ask, "chided the older woman. "They are our guests, after all."

The young woman bristled for a few seconds at the telling off, before addressing Alastair.

"Would you be so kind," she asked, overly feigning her politeness, "to help with the cooking, at least? This should not tax you, or keep you from your fellow Warden's side."

"Of course," replied Alistair, dead pan.

"Thank you ever so much," the young woman continued in the same tone, "your help, as small as it will be, is appreciated."

"Are you quite done snipping, girl?" asked the older woman calmly.

The young woman made a noise at this, before storming out. The older woman simply smiled.

"You must forgive Morrigan," she said calmly. "But she is still has work, on her social graces."

"I'm glad you got her to _ask_," muttered Alistair under his breath, as the older woman got up and went outside briefly. She returned with her hands full of dead rabbits.

"How good is your cooking?" she asked, placing them in front of the fire.

"I can make a decent enough stew. Nothing more complicated than that."

"Stew will do," the old woman said. "She'll be hungry when she wakes. Everything you need is over there in that basket" she pointed. "I'll be outside."

Alistair didn't have time to reply before she was gone.

He looked down at Elissa, running his finger down her arm as Dax jumped down.

"Wake up soon," he whispered softly to her.

Dax gruffed, and looking he saw the mabari with the basket in its mouth, standing next to the rabbits. He looked to Elissa again, not too sure of the distraction.

* * *

Elissa had tried to hold onto the voices in the dark, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break free; her very being refused to budge from the cocoon.

Every time felt like trying to catch a dream; each slipping through the harder she tried to hold on.

She could make out flurries of sentences and words from Alistair, to her and others; some near, some far; but always the same tone. She wanted to stay with him, to understand everything.

But then the blackness would set it, carrying her away into a realm of murder and monsters.

* * *

Alistair paced, for want of nothing better to do, his stomach churning in protest at the food he had finally eaten.

But nothing made sense to him anymore; nothing that he felt he could understand, at any rate. He wanted to talk, but there was only one person he now trusted.

He saw Dax move in the corner of his eye, the mabari staring very intently at Elissa, before it went to her side.

The war hound sniffed her hand, barked gently, wagging its short tail, as slowly, she moved; her hand lifting enough for Dax to put his nose under; her fingers, little by little, scratching his nose.

Alistair hurried to her side. "Elissa?" he spoke her name softly.

She murmured faintly in response.

He sank down on the bed next to Dax.

"Hey," he whispered, as Dax began licking her hand.

She tried signalling with her other hand. He reached over and took it in his.

"I'm here," he whispered tenderly, feeling overwhelmed with relief as she squeezed his hand; her other still being licked.

"Wantif," she mumbled, barely legible.

"Take your time," he coaxed.

Elissa's eyes fluttered open, looking around, before focusing on Alistair.

_Water_, she mouthed.

He let go of her hand; pouring a cup from the pitcher he had readied earlier.

"Only drips, lad, don't overwhelm her," said the old woman.

Alistair didn't know where she had appeared from, but at that moment he didn't care. He moved to the other side of the bed, and dipping his finger into the cup, he carefully placed water droplets into Elissa's mouth.

The liquid was a welcome relief to Elissa, as her eye sight improved.

"More," she eventually croaked, sorely.

"Here," the old woman said, holding a spoon out to him. "Keep it steady like before."

Alistair nodded, beginning the retinue again. Very quickly the cup was empty.

"What happened?" asked Elissa, her eyes now firmly fixed on Alistair.

The look he gave her said it all.

"The King..?"

"The King," replied Alistair, his voice pained. "Duncan...everyone."

The old woman interrupted. "The man who was to lead your reinforcements, quit the field. No-one, besides yourselves, survived."

Even though he had heard this from the old woman the morning after, hearing it again cut Alistair to the quick.

Alistair and Elissa stared at each other.

"But Loghain..." she whispered eventually, confused.

"I know," Alistair agreed. He took a staggered breath. "It could have been us, too, if this woman hadn't rescued us."

Elissa looked at her. As unremarkable as the woman looked, there was something in her eyes that told Elissa she was not a woman to be meddled with.

"T-Thank you. H-How did you rescue us?"

The old woman laughed. "Oh by the wave of my hand, and the tip of a hat," she smiled, dismissively. "How are you feeling?"

"Strange," admitted Elissa. "It feels like my own body is fighting itself."

"I did what I could," the woman explained, "but I don't have much knowledge by way of poisons, but the lad here tells me you, do."

"I do," answered Elissa quizzingly, looking at Alistair. "How was I poisoned?"

"How much do you remember of the Tower of Ishal?" he asked.

He watched as she tried to remember.

"I remember fighting the dark spawn...the ogre...then..." Her dark eyes sparkled. "The brood. You yelled. I turned...then...darkness...and voices...I could hear you." Elissa was whispering now. "I could hear your voice." He couldn't look away from her piercing eyes. "I won't leave you."

Alistair couldn't speak, dumbfounded. But the old woman interrupted.

"Do you remember anything else from the top of the tower?"

Elissa frowned, shaking her head. "Not after turning around and seeing the brood. Were you there?" she asked.

"I was hovering," replied the old woman mysteriously. "The brood hit you both with poisoned arrows, as another ogre came from behind. I intervened. The rest the lad can tell you. For the moment, we need to know your poison."

"You're not hurt?" Elissa asked Alistair.

He shook his head. "Scraped the skin. I promise," he assured her.

"The poison," the woman insisted.

"Do you have any hysncore leaves?"

"Plenty. How many do you need?"

"Just one. You'll need the arrow."

"It's wrapped in a bundle."

"The leaf needs to be rubbed on the arrow. The colour will show poison I have."

Alistair made a move to do what Elissa had said, but the old woman waved him off.

"Sit, lad, and talk to your fellow Grey Warden."

Alistair didn't need convincing, as the old woman left them.

They looked at each other.

"I can't believe it," she whispered, shocked. "Everyone? No others?"

Alistair shook his head. "Just us." He couldn't look at her. "I was so scared for you. But she said you still lived. How..?"

"I don't know," Elissa answered with a small speck of confusion. "Loghain left the field..? The King?"

Alistair could only nod.

Elissa saw him pale, his face etched with the worry and sorrow he had been carrying. She knew only too well of the grief he was now in.

"I'm sorry," was all she could muster to say.

Alistair's eyes moved to hers. "For what?"

"For everything."

"It's not your fault."

"Nor yours."

The old woman interrupted them then, both knowing that that conversation was far from over.

"Here," the old woman held out the leaf for them to see.

Part of the leaf had turned black.

"Soulcot," said Elissa.

"What do we do now?" asked Alistair, staring at the leaf, as Dax jumped off the bed and ran outside.

"Ducaon flowers," replied Elissa, "enough to make water turn blue."

"Something so simple, for such a poison," the old woman wondered, examining the black leaf.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY YOU DAMN MUTT!"

Elissa looked at Alistair questioningly as he rolled his eyes.

Dax shot inside, a bunch of ducaon flowers in his mouth, with the younger woman on his heels.

She stopped in her tracks when she say that Elissa was awake.

"Finally, the female Warden awakes. Maybe now this idiot," she indicated Alistair, "can stop moping, and be useful for a change."

Elissa didn't miss a beat. "Given what's happened..."

"Yes, yes,_ given what's happened_. You Grey Wardens make it sound like it is the end of the world."

"Shut up girl," snapped the old woman, standing. "We have a poison remedy to make."

"_We_?!" came the incredulous retort.

"Yes, _we_," answered the older woman, with an authoritive tone. "Will you say no, to learning poison remedies? Surely not."

The younger woman squared up to her.

"Mother..." she said derisively.

"Morrigan..." responded the older woman in kind, coupled with an unwavering glare that no-one else in the hut would care question.

Morrigan backed down.

"What do we need then mother?"

"The pitcher of water," the older woman answered, taking the ducaon flowers from Dax as Morrigan collected the pitcher. She plucked a handful of flowers.

"Until they turn the water blue?" she asked, looking at Elissa.

"Yes."

The older woman dropped the flowers into the water, and watched, fascinated, as the water turned a royal blue.

Morrigan was as equally absorbed. "It is so easy." She looked up. "What of the flowers?"

"You drink everything," answered Elissa as she tried to sit up. She blushed as she caught the bed cover as it slipped down. "Where are my clothes?" she whispered to Alistair.

"Mother treated your wounds," explained Morrigan in a matter of fact way, as she poured the blue water into a cup. "Your clothes were in the way."

"O-Oh, I...suppose that makes sense," said Elissa as she manoeuvred the cover around her. Alistair helped a little, not knowing where to look.

"Now is not the time for modesty," queried Morrigan as she handed the cup to Elissa.

"Don't embarrass the poor girl," said the old woman as Elissa drank the blue water without question; with only a wrinkle in her nose. "She isn't one for running around naked, that is all girl."

"Oh," Morrigan was surprised at this revelation. "Shyness is a normal response then?"

"Yes," answered Alistair a little too quickly. Both he and Elissa flushed as she drank the Duacon flowers in three mouthfuls, her nose wrinkled.

"Alistair needs to drink that too," she said, handing the cup back.

He shifted where he sat. "I wasn't poisoned like you."

"But your arm," she said as the refilled cup was offered to him. "Please," she insisted.

He took the cup without looking at any of them, and drank it in two gulps. He grimaced.

"That's horrible," he said.

"I know," agreed Elissa, "but it works."

"Hungry now?" asked the old woman, as she stirred the stew.

"Famished," replied Elissa eagerly, carefully sitting back, her body tingling.

"Good," the old woman served two bowls. "What of the water?"

"I'll finish that," asked Elissa as she tucked into the stew.

"You need to drink it all?"

"How long have I been laying here?"

"Two nights."

She nodded. "It's best, to be sure." Elissa stopped. "Thank you... I don't know your name."

"What is a name," answered the older woman dismissively. She saw Elissa wanted an answer. "I believe your chastened call me Flemeth."

Alistair and Elissa stared at each other, then at the woman.

"_The_ Flemeth?" asked Alistair.

She laughed. "Is that how I am described, lad? My name, as was asked, is Flemeth. Be I _the_ Flemeth? I will leave that for you to decide."

With a mischievous smile, Flemeth and Morrigan left, their food in hand.

* * *

That night, Alistair and Elissa lay talking in hushed tones; Alistair on the floor, Elissa on the bed, with Dax sound asleep beside her. Both were aware that somewhere outside of the hut, were Flemeth and Morrigan.

"...but what if they try to keep us here?" whispered Alistair.

"I don't think they'll do that."

"But we can't know that, for sure. They could. Morrigan would. I don't doubt that bitch."

Elissa smiled, and rolled onto her side, leaning over the side of the bed in his direction.

"Do you really think that? After everything they've done for us?"

She knew he was thinking.

"I suppose not, but you have heard the Flemeth stories, haven't you?"

"Who hasn't? _The dreaded Witch of the Wilds_."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Alistair. "We don't know what they, or she, will do."

"Alistair," Elissa reasoned, "they've rescued, healed, fed and sheltered us. Do you really think, after all that, that they'll do something to us?"

Alistair wasn't giving up. "I'm just saying."

"Templar," Elissa accused, "but I think the bigger question is what do we do next? We can't stay here."

He sighed heavily. "I wish Duncan was here."

Elissa felt his pain. "I wish they were all here."

"Why did Loghain do it? That's what I don't understand. He's the King's father-in-law."

The flicker of a memory went through Elissa's mind, though she remained silent.

"The King trusted him," continued Alistair, lost in his thoughts. "The commander of his army, the father of his wife. There was no reason for him to betray Cailin." His anger continued. "There is nothing, _nothing_, that gives Loghain the right to quit the field. Men have been hung for lesser crimes. Why?!"

Elissa rolled onto her back.

"Some men are just outright bastards.".

Her tone caught Alistair, who knew she solely didn't mean just Loghain. He sat up and rested his head next to her..

"Howe."

Elissa took a breath. "There's no sense to anything."

"Unless they're in league with each other..?"

She turned to him. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I don't know if they are," rambled Alistair, "I'm just thinking out loud, I'm probably talking nonsense. Just ignore me"

"It does make some sense," murmured Elissa. "I doubt Howe would do something so brash as murder my whole family, without thinking he could get away with it."

"Because Cailan would wage war on him for it."

"But what if he knew that he didn't have to worry about the King?" Elissa wondered out loud. "What if, as you said, they're in league?"

"Then Howe would have known that Loghain was going to abandon the King on the battlefield." Alistair sat up properly, facing her. "They fought side by side with Maric during the uprising."

"My father was I remember my father's stories. He used to say they were all 'thick as thieves.'"

"It still doesn't explain why though."

"I know, and I know we have no proof," continued Elissa thoughtfully, "but it fits."

"Except for the Wardens," questioned Alistair. "Why us?"

"I can answer that," said Elissa, a realisation dawning on her. "The War Council."

"What about it?"

"The Orleasans." Alistair could hear the surprise in her voice. "He was waiting to hear from the Orleasan Empress, but her answer was taking too long. By the time he held the War Council, he had already ordered Duncan to contact the Orleasan Grey Wardens. All Duncan had to do was send word. And Loghain," she said in disbelief, "was furious. He accused Cailin of handing Ferelden back to the Orleasans. Cailin dismissed him out of hand but..."

Alistair finished off her sentence."Loghain would have seen that as further proof of weakness on Cailan's part." He scarcely believed it himself. "Are we really thinking this? Are we really saying, that what Loghain and Howe have done, has been premeditated?"

"I'm not saying it's fact, but, it fits. Doesn't it? It's not just me?"

"No, it's not. I only hope that we're wrong."

"I think we'd best prepare for finding out the worst."

"But what do we do? If all that conjecture is true? What then?"

At this, Elissa was stumped. "I don't know," she admitted. "But whatever it is, we can't do anything with supplies."

"Or coin."

"I still have the coin I won from the archery and King Cailan."

"That won't last forever. We need a way to earn more."

They answered in unison.

"The chantry board."

Elissa smiled. "Lothering is the nearest."

"Agreed. Will you be able to make it?"

"I'll be fine. I need to work this poison out of my body anyway. A steady pace will be good."

"We'll leave in the morning then." Alistair lay back down. "I don't know if I'll sleep now."

"Nor I."

* * *

In the morning, they stood in front of Flemeth, facing the enormity of what they had decided to do.

"So here you both are, ready to be Grey Wardens," stated Flemeth.

"Can we really do this?" questioned Alistair.

"Why not," answered Elissa. "Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?"

"This isn't just any ordinary Blight, girl, make no mistake," Flemeth said to Elissa. "The whole fate of Ferelden now rests with you both. Only the Grey Wardens can end a Blight. And you both will, no doubt, discover the true intentions of this Loghain. The path is now laid out in front of you, and do you understand what I give you? I give you that which is most precious to me, I give you Morrigan."

"Really?" asked Alistair.

"Her magic will be of use to you. Or shall I have her turn you into a toad now?"

"Mother..." pleaded Morrigan.

"You've been itching to get out of the Wilds, now is your chance. Do you understand Warden," Flemeth addressed Elissa, "that I place her life in your hands."

"She will not come to harm with us," answered Elissa. Flemeth seemed satisfied at the answer.

"Do I not have a say in this Mother?" asked Morrigan.

"They will need your help. Do what you can, girl. They _must_ succeed. Many lives depend on that."

"I...did not want it this way."

"I know, girl, but I send you with them, into the world you fervently crave."

Elissa thought that Morrigan looked confused.

"I will do as you ask Mother."

"Good," again she addressed Elissa. "I will hold you to that promise Warden."

"Do we really need to take her?" whined Alistair.

Elissa looked at him. "We need all the help we can get."

"I suppose," Alistair was placated. "Grey Wardens have never refused help, no matter where it was given."

"Oh, I'm so pleased you approve," Morrigan replied sarcastically. "Shall we depart, or shall I be subjected to more of your stupidity?"

"Let's leave," Elissa said quickly, before Alistair could answer Morrigan back. He glared at Morrigan instead.

"Goodbye Mother. Do not forget the stew, least I should return and find a burnt hut."

"I won't forget, girl. I'll just bumble about in my own merry way, after you are gone."

Elissa saw how that cut Morrigan.

"I did not mean it like that, I simply meant..."

"I know, girl. I am only having one final tease. Now go. There is a long journey before you all."

Alistair, Elissa and Dax, with a lick, bid farewell to Flemeth, and set off after Morrigan, their first destination in mind.

Lothering.


End file.
